Chapter 13
Water sloshes around my ankles, the ship’s corridors a maze of shattered glass, splintered wood, and scattered belongings. I call out for my fellow students, my voice echoing hollowly in the chaos. There’s no response, only the eerie howling of the wind and the crash of the sea.
The hallways are dimly lit, the emergency lights flickering and casting long, sinister shadows on the walls. The air is thick with the smell of salt, mold, and something metallic–blood, maybe? I swallow hard, my mouth dry with fear. Every step I take is accompanied by the groaning of the ship’s strained structure and the distant, ominous sounds of the storm outside.
As I round a corner, my foot slips on something wet and sticky. I look down to see a smear of dark liquid trailing across the floor, leading toward the galley. The realization sends a shiver down my spine.
Will and the others… the crew–where are they? Why isn’t anyone responding?
I reach the galley, and the sight that greets me is like a scene from a nightmare. Tables and chairs are overturned, their legs twisted and broken. Pots and pans are scattered everywhere, some with deep dents as if they had been struck with tremendous force. The walls are streaked with what looks like claw marks, deep gouges that suggest something violent and otherworldly tore through here. My mind races, a cold, electric fear coursing through my veins.
“Hello?” I call out, my voice trembling.
There’s no answer, only the eerie silence that follows my words. I scan the room, my eyes wide with terror. The physical evidence of an attack is everywhere -blood splatters, deep scratches, broken glass–but no bodies.
The absence of any of the other ten–odd souls that had been aboard this ship only hours ago fills me with dread. What could have caused this level of destruction without leaving a single body behind? My mind conjures up the image of a Great White shark and a sly, satisfied smirk.
Oh… God.
A sudden noise from behind startles me, and I whirl around, my heart in my throat. It’s him. The merman, standing in the doorway, his eyes dark and intense. His presence sends a jolt of fear through me. His legs, though unsteady, carry him with a predatory grace that makes my blood run cold.
“Pho–ebe,” he calls, his voice a deep rumble that reverberates through the room.
The sound of my name on his lips only heightens my fear. I grab an oversized shirt from a pile of clothes on the ground and quickly tug it on, needing the small comfort of fabric against my skin.
I turn and sprint toward the navigation room, the merman close behind. His movements are awkward, his new legs still unsteady, but his sheer size and power make him threatening. I weave through the debris, hopping over broken crates and crawling under low–hanging beams, trying to put as much distance between us as possible.
“Pho–ebe!” He roars after me so loudly that the ship’s sheet metal walls shake with the force of it.
Every bone and muscle in my body is screaming to clam up and freeze in the face of danger, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop.
The ship lurches violently, and I barely keep my balance. I round a corner on the stern of the ship and duck underneath an overturned lifeboat, my breath coming in ragged gasps. For a moment, I think I’ve lost him.
I’m shaking, and on the brink of tears, but grateful for the dark hiding place, where I crouch with my hands clamped over my mouth, trying to calm my racing heart.
I wait one minute, and then two, and just when I think he must have finally lost interest, the lifeboat disappears. The merman shoves it over the edge of the ship with a grunt of effort, his strength both awe–inspiring and terrifying. My cover gone, I scramble backward, my eyes wide with fear.
“Pho–ebe…,” he growls, his gruff voice a mix of relief and frustration. He takes a step toward me, his movements still awkward and jerky on land.
I don’t wait to see what he does next. I turn and sprint away, my legs burning with effort. I need to get to the navigation room, to find a way to call for help. The ship lurches beneath me, the storm having hardly let up. I can hear the merman behind me, his heavy footsteps splashing through the water.
1 push myself harder, leaping over broken beams and sliding under overturned tables. My bare feet slip on the wet floor, but I manage to keep moving. The sound of his pursuit is relentless, his heavy breaths and the crash of debris echoing through the corridors.
I reach the narrow staircase leading to the navigation room, my lungs burning with the effort. I take the steps two at a time, my fingers gripping the rail for balance. The ship sways violently, and I nearly lose my footing, but I push on, driven by sheer desperation.
The navigation room door is just ahead, but as I reach for the handle, an arm like a steel girder snaps around my waist and wrenches me backward into a
rock hard chest.
1/2
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